Then he looks at me seriously, a line of worry crossing his face.
"But be safe."
What does he mean? I wonder. My mind flashes back to the breaking news report I saw earlier, about the clowns.
"You okay, darling?" Larson asks me, handing me my beer.
"Yeah. Clay just told me to..."
I'm about to say 'stay safe' but I don't want to dampen the mood, so I decide to try to forget about it.
"...have fun," I finish.
"Well great," Larson says. "I have just the thing that'll help with that."
He slides a small glass full of a small amount of clear liquid over to me. He has one too. And then he passes me a small plastic container that has lime and salt in it.
"Is that...?"
"Tequila," he says. "I thought it would go perfectly with your Corona."
"Oh, my God, I haven't had tequila since..."
"You've never had tequila like this," he says.
He winks at me, and I get wet for him all over again.
"Oh no?" I ask, accepting the challenge.
"Definitely not. This tequila requires a kiss to quell the burn."
"Oh really?"
My heart is racing. I want this. It doesn't make a lot of sense, but I do.
"Ready?" he asks, holding up his glass.
He sprinkles salt on my wrist and then licks it off. Then he applies more and I lick my own wrist in the spot where his mouth just was. I look up at him, begging for more.
"Ready," I say.
"One, two, three."
We both down the tequila and then he places the lime in my mouth. I suck on it. Begging him again.
He kisses me, soft and slow and perfectly. Our tongues wrap together as if they belong to each other. He explores the inside of my mouth like I can only imagine he would explore my pussy.
I can’t believe the things he’s making me think about. But I want to get lost in my desires tonight, to let myself go mentally as well as physically. It’s Halloween night, and it’s time to be brave.
He wraps his arms around me and puts his knee in between my legs. I press myself up against him, my body begging him the same way my eyes just were. He puts his hand on my ass and squeezes it, possessively.
I would feel embarrassed by how much I want him, if I didn't also feel so turned on. My attraction to him outweighs my feelings of neediness. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, and my pussy dripping into my panties.
I imagine him picking me up and carrying me to a bed. In the middle of all of these people, I fantasize about him kissing me, caressing me, nibbling on me, sucking on me.
I think about him taking out his cock and spreading my legs open wide and pushing it into me. I can’t help but assume it would be huge, like his other muscles. I want to feel it, stroke it, taste it. I want to make him feel as good as I bet he can make me feel.
"Let's go to the dance floor," he commands.
Just like that, I’m brought out fantasy land. But the good thing is that my reality tonight seems just as nice. I don’t want to miss a minute of whatever tonight has in store for me and my blind date.
I follow Larson, ready for whatever tonight will bring. He squeezes my hand and I love how big and strong his feels in mine.
"I'm not much of a dancing guy," he says, "but I need an excuse to be pressed up against you all night long."
No excuses needed, I want to tell him. But I don't say anything at all, because I don't want to ruin the moment, or whatever is about to come next.
Chapter 8 – Brynn
We’ve been at the party for a while but I’ve been lost in the moment. I really don’t know how much time has passed. All I know is that everyone's still dancing and the music's still bumping. And Larson's hands are still all over me.
He's grabbing my ass, pulling at my bra strap, pushing his whole body up against my legs. I can feel his rock- hard cock up against me through his tight pants that make up part of his football player costume.
"Boo!" someone says from behind us, and we turn around to see a crazy clown less than an inch away from our faces.
"Oh, my God," I say, as Larson pulls me even closer against him.
"That's not fucking funny, you fucking douche,” Larson snarls.
He looks at the clown like he wants to punch him. I squeeze his big bicep, silently urging him not to fight with the clown, even though part of me thinks that would be quite a sight to see, and that the clown would kind of deserve it.
"Halloween's not meant to be funny," says the clown, laughing that crazy squeal of his right into Larson's face. "It's meant to be scary."
Larson grabs the clown's arm but the clown tears away from him and disappears into the crowd.
"Yeah, you'd better run, you piece of shit freak," he says. "Leave us the fuck alone."
"I know this is a Halloween party and a haunted house but I don't think the clowns should be that scary!" I tell Larson. “Especially because people are actually getting hurt out there, by clowns.”
"It's fucking annoying. Let's go to your hotel..." he tells me, hugging me close against him again.
I think about it.
"I had told Riley I'd stay here with her and Jensen."
I have to shout over the music and noise of the crowd to be heard.
My tickets to the party included an invitation to stay in one of the many rooms in the Tucker mansion. I had planned to stay at the hotel and give the room to Riley and Jensen. But once I heard about the clown news and they said we should all stick together, I agreed whole-heartedly.
"Go with me instead." Larson pulls me closer to him. "Riley won't care. Actually she and Jensen will love the privacy. And the chance to fuck without their kid around."
I know he's right. Riley had even mentioned the possibility of Larson and me spending the night at the hotel and Whitney had said she could keep Caleb for me overnight.
"Well on that note. I should check on my son."
If I go to the hotel or anywhere other than staying here at the Tucker mansion, it should be to Caleb.
"He'll be all right," Larson says. "He's with Whitney."
He kisses me, for about the tenth time tonight, and I give in, kissing him back.
What's one night?
I'd already planned to be away from Caleb tonight anyway. Tomorrow we'll be headed back to New York and I'll be wishing I had had a little more fun with Larson.
And Larson's right, Caleb is in good hands. I'll just disturb his sleep if I go see him now.
It's late. Caleb's been soundly asleep for hours. In fact, earlier Whitney had texted me a picture of him in Riley's bed, with a caption that said Caleb says good night, Mommy .
Suddenly the music stops and it sounds as if someone is tapping on the microphone.
"Ladies and gentleman, ghouls and gals," Clay Tucker says.
The crowd claps and hoots for our host.
"What is this douchebag going to yammer on about this time?" Larson says, as he kisses my neck up and down. "I think we should cut out before we have to hear any more announcements about his signature drinks with the crazy sounding names."
I laugh and shhhh him.
"Be nice," I tell him. "I have to schmooze, remember?"
"Yeah yeah," He says. "Schmoozing is part of your bigwig job."
"I'm glad to see you're all having fun, but I have a very serious and important announcement to make," Clay says, and everyone groans.
"Don't worry, the party isn't over," Clay continues.
Everyone cheers.
"It goes all night, and you're welcome to stay as long as you want. But for those of you who are planning to leave, I just need to give you a word of warning. Be careful about all the clowns out there."
Some people laugh, but I tense up.
As Clay is making the announcement, a bunch of clowns run out and a soundtrack plays of their maniacal cackling laughter.
Larson's hand presses down firmly on my back.
"You okay?" He asks me.
There's still some laughter rising up from the crowds, but other people are starting to hush those who are laughing, and a ripple of voices are explaining what's been going on to those who hadn't heard.
"We received a report that clowns had stolen some cars, and so I just want everyone to be careful," Clay continues. "Of course, the clowns here are safe. All of the mayhem is just for show. If you stay here, you won't get hurt."
It's crazy, but I swear Clay squints at me through the crowd as he says this last part.
"So I really recommend that you stay here."
A shiver runs down my spine. Clay laughs in a way that is eerily reminiscent of the clowns.
"But now that I've done my part in passing on this information, go ahead and keep the party going!" he concludes.
"Woo hoo!" Someone yells from the crowd. He's soon joined in by other merry revelers.
"Yeah!"
"Parrrrrrrrty!"
The music comes back on and everyone continues the party just as they were instructed.
"How can they be so blasé?" I ask Larson. "They don't even care that clowns are stealing cars and doing God knows what else?"
He hugs me tight.
"And what the hell is wrong with Clay?" I continue, not able to contain my rage. "He says to watch out for scary clowns doing awful things, while featuring creepy clowns at his party? That's fucked up."
"It's kind of the perfect thing to do for a Halloween party," Larson says.
"But it's not any normal Halloween, as he himself said, and the news said. The real clowns are really dangerous and he's made a big joke out of it all."
"Yeah, he seems like a real shithead though," Larson agrees. "It's about what I would expect from some trust fund asshole with nothing better to do than come up with ways to scare people even more than normal at his overhyped Halloween party."
I laugh. Larson's assessment of Clay is correct and really puts things into perspective. Sure, Clay has businesses that my firm helps protect, but they were started by his family and run by family money that was passed down through generations.
"Thanks for cheering me up," I tell him. "Even though it's still pretty creepy and I can't help but admit I'm a bit scared."
"It's okay, babe. You're with me. I'll protect you."
"But what about Caleb?" I ask, a shiver going down my spine. "I really should go back to Riley's and check on him."
"He's safe with Whitney," Larson says. "And you don't want to wake him up, remember?"
I nod, my head on his firm chest. I want to go with him, to feel safe and warm and also very, very well taken care of in other ways as well.
But I also can't stop worrying that something might have happened to Caleb.
"If you want, we can drive by Riley's on our way to your hotel," Larson says, kissing the top of my head.
"Yes," I say quickly, both to driving by Riley's house and also going to my hotel.
It's the perfect solution. The best of both worlds. I'll make sure my baby boy is safe. And then I'll have some fun with this bad boy who was sweet enough to dress in a matching costume for me, even though we just met.
He'll protect me. And fuck my brains out.
This will be the best Halloween ever, a true escape from the worries of the real world. And then I'll get back to New York and to my real life, with memories of the guy I'd never thought I'd be with who rocked my world for one quick but amazing night.
Chapter 9 – Larson
After we leave the party and walk to the parking lot, I'm happy to see that my bike is untouched, as is Jensen's. I was talking a big talk to reassure Brynn, but I have no fucking idea what these clowns are up to. It wouldn’t surprise me if they did the worst thing you can do to a biker— knock over his fucking bike.
I think the clowns are as fucking creepy as Brynn does, but I'm not going to tell her that. That might ruin my chances to get into her panties. To be more specific, I need to get into— and get her out of— that little red thong I know she's wearing, because I saw and touched it when we were on the dance floor.
I even tried to move it over so I could explore what was underneath with my fingers, but she pushed them away. Pretending to be such a good girl.
But just wait until we're alone. I know she has a bad side just waiting to come out for me. And come for me.
"Here you go," I say, handing her my bike helmet. "Hop on."
"Hop on… how?" she asks, looking sheepish.
Poor darling's never ridden a motorcycle before. Or me. She has no idea what's in store for her.
I help her onto the bike and say, "Don't be scared."
"Okay," she answers, but I don't know if she's referring to the bike, or me, or to the clowns. Maybe a combination of all three.
As we head to Riley's house, the streets are quiet except for some drunken revelers, spilling out of the bars and house parties and heading home to their beds and their hangovers tomorrow morning. No sign of any clowns. Good.
But when we pull up to Riley's house, a quick shadow darts across the lawn.
"Hey!"
As I cut the engine and jump off my bike, I see more shadows running from the driveway.
Stupid punk kids.
But under the street lamp I see that they have fuzzy colorful hair, white foundation, black streaked makeup and red noses. They're dressed exactly the same as the clowns that were at Clay Tucker's mansion. For all I know, they could be the same clowns.
"Fucking clowns."
"They were trying to steal Whitney's car!" Brynn says, pointing at the clowns and then to the car parked in Jensen's and Riley's driveway.
The fear in her voice is palpable. And her whole body fucking tenses up.
"Wait here, Babe," I tell her. "I'll handle these fucking idiots."
"You'll never catch them," she starts to protest. "It's a good thing we showed up in time. Let's just go make sure that Whitney and the boys are okay and that…"
But I'm chasing after one of the fucking assholes before Brynn can finish her sentence. The clown looks back at me with terror spreading across his stupid gothic- looking clown face. Both he and Brynn underestimated how fast I can run.
As he tries to turn back around to keep running, he trips and falls over a tree branch.
I grab him and say, "Stupid clumsy clown."
Suddenly there are a bunch of other clowns, pounding their fists into me. But they're weak amateurs compared to me. I know I can knock them fucking senseless, and I do.
I turn around swinging, knocking them out left and right. I punch them right on their creepy, ugly noses and I kick them once they're down.
Their scary faces meet the cold hard force of my years of military and martial arts training. And that fucking stops them all right. Some are out cold. The rest run or crawl away.
"Yeah, run away like the cowards you are!" I hurl at them. "You think you can mess with me? Stay away from this fucking house."
None of them respond as the last of the bunch slinks off, but I'm pretty sure they got the message.
"I got them!" I yell back at Brynn. "Go inside and check on Whitney and the boys. And call the cops. But wait until I'm gone."
"Wait until you're gone?" she sputters.
"Please get in the house," I tell her.
She runs and opens the door.
"Is everything okay in there, Brynn?" I shout, before she has the chance to close the door.
"Yes," she answers, sticking her head back out. "I'll call the cops. But can't you come in?"
"No. I'll wait in the lobby of your hotel if you're able to sneak back out," I tell her. "But I can't stay here."
I run and jump back onto my bike and speed off down the street, casting one regretful look in the direction of the house. I hope she'll still come and meet me. But I can't be caught by the cops.
I'm out of here, ev
en if it means losing out on the night of passion I'd planned with Brynn. I’ve stayed too long and can’t afford to stay any longer. I’m risking my physical safety and my freedom by being here where the police— or worse, other people— might be able to find me. But it was worth the sacrifice to do what I had to do for Brynn and Caleb.
I might not get to fuck her senseless, but at least I saved her and her son from those creepy clowns. And now I have to save my own ass.
Chapter 10 – Brynn
Holy shit. What the hell is going on?
What was supposed to be a fun Halloween has turned into a true nightmare.
I'm glad that I have Riley's spare key and that I've made it safely inside. But I have no idea what's up with Larson.
I rush into the house, to find Whitney watching reruns of The Real Housewives on Riley's Hulu account, calm as can be.
"Whitney!" I exclaim.
"What?"
She looks up at me as if I'm interrupting her viewing.
"Oh, Brynn. Hi. How was the party? Why are you back already?"
"Whitney. There were friggin’ clowns out there trying to steal your car."
"What? Really?"
She looks out the front window and down the street, to where some clowns are lying unconscious on the ground, courtesy of Larson before he took off. I catch Whitney up on what has happened, as I call the police.
"Well, I doubt any of them will be coming back trying to start trouble now," Whitney says, and I agree with her. "It's a good thing that Larson was with you, and that you guys came back here to check on us. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"But I can handle talking to the police. You should go with Larson before his motorcycle carriage turns back into a pumpkin."
I laugh.
"I see what you did there, Whitney. Very nice. Very seasonal."
"But seriously. This is your one kid- free night and I want you to take full advantage of it. Go see him. Let a pregnant lady enjoy her TV binge watching in peace."
"But, Whitney, why couldn't he stay here until the cops came? He just took off, like some outlaw…"
Whitney sighs, as if debating whether or not to tell me something.
Their Protector: An MC Outlaw Halloween Romance Page 5
